Iris
by DLN-000
Summary: The bud bloomed to show you the way. Nurtured by her blood it opened up your world.


As my friends get progressively more and more into Rock Man, I feel the need to write dramatic stories that may either make them cry or incredibly angry at me for doing it.

Anyway, I hope it's to your enjoyment.

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**Iris**

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One day, you felt something appear inside your heart. It was just a tiny speck, apparently unimportant, that settled itself quite easily into the most concealed pit of your chest. You didn't know where it had come from or why it was there, didn't even recognize its form until it first sprouted from the earth to reveal a small fragile-looking sapling that barely held itself against the world. At first you doubted it would last long, but time and time again proved that it somehow persisted, although it never seemed to grow any further from that early stage in its life. You fell back on ignoring it because of this, unaware that each dawn and every dusk fed its own soul with a vital strength that would someday explode to alter the course of your upcoming future. Below the floor that gave away none of its secrets, its roots tunneled into spaces that you had never imagined could be invaded, its presence in your existence slowly escalating as it eventually became crucial, but you still weren't certain why.

The day that bud finally got strong, it hurt like you'd never known before, a special type of pain that can only be compared to your chest bursting open with all the gifts and curses that every heart tries foolishly to contain.

It was like the roots and the leaves that had come to spread so far without your knowing, suddenly decided to push farther than their natural limits would allow. And they reached as far as they could, opening holes up in your body and spreading cracks all over your limbs. You were filled with an undeniable surge of immense power, but also a sense of dread and desperation, as if you knew something were going terribly wrong, or was about to, as soon as you opened your eyes, and looked past the blur that had covered your face upon its awakening. It was so shocking and so confusing, the experience completely numbing you to your surroundings, until finally you felt something once more in your hands, and the shallow breathing of a child who was just instants from falling into the deepest of slumbers.

And you screamed so loud that you almost scared the sapling back into the ground, but her blood started to run, thawing through the anger that clung like frost to its delicate petals. As it grew from her falling, nurtured by her kindhearted blessing, her dying words fed the sparking fire within, and it became a thousand times brighter.

It grew and grew, and grew some more, until it filled all of what is you, and every crevice, of your body and mind. You were still screaming as you held her in your arms, crying into a darkness only known to those who have experienced true despair. But the grief you felt only served to fuel that sapling further, and the petals inside, began to shine through their true colors.

There had been a time when you doubted it would ever blossom, but here it was now, and how far you had both come. With the help of many, you could list everyone to whom you're grateful; but you're sure it's her, who gave the final –and most important– push down the road. You can apologize all you want, but your words are as vain as your shakes, for her body will not move, and it will not respond. The only answer you received was her will, and the tears from both your eyes, that became the source of this bud's maturing.

You had wondered for a while, what it would look like when it finally broke out from its shell of leaves and greeted the world, and she had told you back then, to be patient and wait for it to be ready by itself. It would be beautiful, no matter how it came.

Now you know, irises come in many shades, although most you've seen have been white or blue or even purple. This one is bright red, almost soft, but with a vividness that only seems to expand with every petal that emerges. You know irises aren't flowers of fruit, but it seems to have something final to give anyway, hidden still in the tangled feelings that constructed it.

And you watch it, conscious of the fact that it is slowly taking over everything that you know, and that it will soon change that completely.

All you are aware of, culminates in the pain that tears at your abdomen, and at the core of that blooming flower, that has rooted its way into your system for years. You always saw it so small, that you never thought there could be so much below it. Despite the cold of winter and the dryness of autumn, it always kept itself strong –alive–, and now you understand why, why it was that it had never faded from your mind.

She believed all along, that someday that sapling would become what it is now. Though your fruitless efforts and struggles for finding all the answers seemed to frustrate you, she always had faith that this day would come, when it would be clear why none of it had ever seemed to work. It had, in its own way, but the tower to success is one built slowly, and by patience, countless amounts of patience. And she knew because she could see those roots –the potential of that tiny, weak bud, buried in a place deep within your soul. You just couldn't tell that what she had been talking about all along, had been this.

There is nothing left for you, but to keep going now, for the sake of her sacrifice and everyone else that you let fall. You may have not saved them, but if you allow it to stop you then there is no hope left at all for the future. She might have not foreseen her own death, but she knew you'd have to take this decision somehow, and that's why that flower had to blossom, to help you define where you stand, and for what you fight in this world.

You have come to think that something like that sapling of yours must exist inside of everyone, shaped everyday by the events that give strength to their selves and meaning to their lives. It is an important thing to care for, and be cautious with, as to not almost let it wither like you did. You would have seen it to its decay, without its bloom first, had it not been for the unexpected way by which she nurtured it. And even if it dies away now, its roots will always live, along with the marks left upon your body by its wake. The things that she did and all that she said will stay with you too, and you are afraid that you will never forget any of it; it'll be with you, as you continue to raise that small red iris.

Because when the sun is cast down and the day is over and you have to set her back on the ground and muster the strength to keep your balance as you stand up and walk away from everything that you and her once shared; that sapling will leave behind, the fruit of your internal battle for reason. And once the fruit is consumed by your thoughts, then only a seed will be left behind, to be captivated by the earth once again and begin its cycle anew.

It may never end, the process of trial and error, accomplishments and mistakes. You failed her when you didn't listen to her pleas, and destroyed her when you were left with no choice but to abandon your feelings and confront her, arms of fire raised towards her.

She couldn't win against you, and you had hoped silently to find some way of saving her even like this, but it had been too late by the time you realized exactly what you had been doing. At least you got to apologize once before she parted, but it and a thousand more never would have felt like enough to make up for the mess you'd made with her and those closest to her.

Still you are screaming into what feels to you like the end of the world, and you are not quite done wondering in rage what the hell it is that you've done and for what. You feel like giving up and disappearing, but that's so much easier said than done. You have a role to play here, and a duty to be served, even if your heart tells you that you can fulfill no debt to anyone or anything, if you are unable to save who most needed you when they most needed you to.

It was yourself, who you let go, and with yourself they all followed, filling the floor with unshed blood, that you can almost feel soaking into your circuits, drowning your muscles. It's so heinous, you want to run away and not have it ever touch you. But it's impossible to turn your back on her limp figure, or close your eyes to the tragedy once it's danced before you.

The most amazing thing about losing her perhaps, is that even though you have you will be forced to trek on, like the flower that grew over the river of grief and heartbroken sorrow. There is strength to be found in devastation, more if there is revenge involved, although you can't find that here, only the resonance to not let it all end like this. At least for her, for she is all you can think about in your current state.

Sinking in such sadness, it's like she's everything you know, and it's that everything that you're being asked to forget about, but you can't, and don't want to, so you hold on, desperately afraid that without it you will have nothing left to fall back on. There is a lot more to whom you are and what you know outside of her fragile existence that has shattered like crystal dewdrops, but you feel like you could never face any of it, with shoulders weighed down by the knowledge that you let her slip in such an atrocious outcome.

Someday it won't hurt as much as it does now, and someday you'll be able to run and fight as if it had never happened at all. But time goes by slowly when you are waiting for something terrible to be buried by your past. So you know it won't be today, or any day soon, when you will not feel your heart heavy as if you still held her perishing in your arms, with eyes that glowed enough to tell you that they would have fought to the very end to ensure the future they dreamt of; and you just might have done the same too, because of her.

All that will be left of her very soon, will be that tiny bud that has little time left in this world, and the essence that along with all the strength needed to keep going, will give you the greatest taste of pain that you have ever known, the first of a kind that has been building up since long, long ago.

And it promises that this will not be the last time you feel yourself die along with somebody else.

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The word "iris" means rainbow, coming from an ancient human language today mostly forgotten. Also the name of a beautiful flower known for appearing in many colors, it is often a symbol used in gifts, as it represents feelings such as hope, faith, wisdom, and courage.


End file.
